The Secret Lives of Us
by LongSnakeMoan
Summary: Everyone has a dirty little secret, especially the citizens of Lawndale. Here are a few of those secrets spilled. Contains strong language and strange themes.


**Paraphilia** from the Greek _para_ meaning beside and _philia_ meaning to love. Attraction to people, objects or situations that are not part of a normative sexual discourse.

**Agalmatophilia** Attraction to dolls or mannequins

She went to Cashman's every day just to be near him. He was so cute, tall with light brown hair and the cutest hazel eyes she'd ever seen. In her mind he was called Caleb Bright, he just looked like a Caleb Bright. Whenever she'd had a bad day she knew she could go and see him and know he would never ignore or mock her. He would just listen and accept every worry she had without ever making her feel stupid or insignificant. Stacy stroked his smooth wooden hand and gazed in adoration. One day she would be brave enough to kiss him

**Chremastistophilia** Arousal from being robbed

It had all started when he was sixteen and was held up by an older boy from the bad side of town. A rusty switchblade knife had been pressed to his throat and the thug had emptied his pockets of seven dollars worth of change, a battered copy of Suddenly Last Summer and finally had taken his beloved yellow plastic Swatch watch. He knew what he should have felt. He knew he should have been paralysed with terror and pleading for mercy. What he felt was a rush, fear mixed with the purity of desire and the urge for it to happen again, and soon. And so here Timothy was, twenty years down the line, waiting in the bad side of town his wallet hanging out and valuables on display. Hoping for a rush.

**Dacryphilia** Arousal from making others cry

Sandi didn't care how or why they cried. The only thing she cared about was that they did. Hers was a different desire from the usual humdrum feelings that fuelled everyone else. It was deeper, more pure, than the usual focus on looks and money. It made her feel astonishing. It was Joey's turn to cry today. He'd taken her to see his car, his pride and joy, buffered and waxed to perfection so she could see her smile reflected back at her and she'd slowly run the muddy sole of her shoe along the flawless white and pointed out he'd missed a bit. As Joey fought back tears and swallowed slowly, she let out a low, almost silent moan of joy.

**Forniphilia** Attraction to humans as furniture

Money allowed a man access to a lot of things and afforded him a certain amount of secrecy but even he couldn't express this preference of his, the one he'd nurtured since he was a teenager. Not in this day and age of instant news. The private life of Tom Sloane would be all over the gossip sites in seconds. He'd always liked the idea of a woman being absolutely his, devoted to his comfort and pleasure, and never answer him back or have any will of her own but he knew such a woman didn't exist, not even for the money he had, so this was the next best thing. The smooth dark oak was exquisitely carved into the tranquil serene features of a beautiful young woman on all fours, submissive, existing solely for him and his bidding. He called her Daria.

**Hybristophilia** Attraction to dangerous, violent criminals

Jane met Jack in her final year at BFAC when he moved into apartment next to hers and the moment when he turned his watery blue gaze on hers she gave herself to him. She knew others didn't see his divine majesty. They just saw his longish dirty blond hair hanging lankly over his face and failed to notice to beauty in his mouth, seeing only the Glasgow smile carved into his cheeks. But she did. And when he'd come to her in the early hours, covered in blood and asking for her help, her fate was sealed. From that night she became his shadow, doing anything and everything for her god. And she knew that he would never hurt her, despite watching what he did to others. They were unworthy and deserved to die. She was ascended above them and he needed her. He loved her and would keep her safe from his harm, that much she knew.

**Kleptophilia** Arousal from theft

If he was ever caught his excuse would be that Angela Li kept her staff such a low wage that he was driven to steal from every store in town to survive. It was a lie of course, to satisfy the idiots at Lawndale Police Department who wouldn't understand the subtle nuances of human desire. DeMartino had no interest in the goods he stole, they were meaningless trophies in his pursuit of satisfaction. What he wanted was the thrill of knowing he could be caught at any moment, the sharpness that settled in his chest as he slipped goods into his pockets and the knot in his stomach that dropped lower when he made it past the security guards and into the street. No, the dull minded citizens of this town wouldn't understand that at all.

**Narratophilia** Arousal by obscene words or stories

Professor Lavelle's lectures were a doubled edged sword for her. His voice didn't help, that low, melodic tone which made every sentence beautiful no matter how banal and seduced Daria a little more with each lecture so the study of profanity was torture to her. She could barely take notes, all she heard was his voice saying dirty words over and over again. 'Shit, fuck, piss, bastard, bitch.' With each one her breath became shorter and harsher and she kept her head down, knowing if her fellow students saw her dilated pupils magnified behind her glasses the game would be up. She just kept her head down and tried to stifle her longing.

**Trichophilia** Attraction to hair

The only reason that Trent had stuck with Monique for so long was that she had the most beautiful long thick hair and would let him bury his face in it for hours. It smelt glorious, of rose perfume and raspberry shampoo and her, that sweet scent that only she had. It didn't have to be hers though. He'd taken to loitering around hairdressers and watching in case someone with beautiful thick hair entered so he could make an excuse to go in and when they left he could scoop up some of the discarded strands. Sometimes he had to steal outright, risky but worth it in the right circumstances. Like now, standing in Daria's sister's room pulling long red strands from the hairbrush he found. She smelt of jasmine and it sent him dizzy. Too young though, pity. Nevermind, across the hall was Mrs Morgendorffer's room and the promise of more.


End file.
